


Safe

by Sae_G



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: Alternate Universe - Baseball, F/F, Kuvira brainrot methinks, Kuvira is a third baseman idc, Kuvira was sheltered growing up idk, Mako is the dude with the spiky hair, baseball!korra, baseball!kuvira, it felt right, korra is secretly a master at pool, kya is the bartender okay, lin is the coach because I said so, reformed villains on a baseball team yup yup
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-16
Updated: 2021-01-16
Packaged: 2021-03-13 16:22:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28781199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sae_G/pseuds/Sae_G
Summary: Baseball AU! It's the playoffs, and Kuvira can't afford to lose this game.
Relationships: Korra/Kuvira (Avatar)
Comments: 9
Kudos: 16





	Safe

**Author's Note:**

  * For [avatarellie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/avatarellie/gifts).



> This is so incredibly late, but this is my birthday fic for Cooter (@avatarellie), who has been such a wonderful friend and has more talent in their pinky toe than I have in my entire body. Enjoy <3

Kuvira stands on third base, knees bent, and arms hung lazily in front of her. Sweat drips down the divot of her brow, and one stray piece of hair sticks to the damp skin of her forehead. She watches as Zhu Li stands at the pitcher’s mound with her glove tucked under her chin. She throws the baseball into her glove, retrieves it, and repeats.

“Just do it, Zhu!” Kuvira shouts after a moment. Zhu Li turns to face her and rolls her eyes. “It’s hot, and I’m melting.” She points to the sun beaming directly overhead, and the shorter woman scoffs before she turns back to face home plate. Kuvira grumbles under her breath and stands back, using her glove to gently fan her face. After a moment, she leans over and spits into the gravel.

Zhu Li postures suddenly, and on instinct, Kuvira returns to her position, knees bent, arms hanging in front of her ready to catch. The pitcher rears her right arm back, extends her left leg, and catapults her upper body forward in an impressive display of strength. Kuvira smirks to herself. The other teams always underestimate Zhu Li. She’s a small woman, in height and stature. But she’s got a sinewy strength that only comes from years of practice, and her fastball tracks at one of the highest speeds in the league. Kuvira can remember several occasions in which Opal had thrown down her catcher’s mitt to show them the black and blue bruising on her hands from where Zhu Li’s pitch caught the soft part of the glove. They always laugh about it, because it’s _damn_ impressive.

Kuvira is brought back by the steady _fwhap_ of the ball hitting Opal’s mitt, followed by the grunt the umpire lets out. Her smirk turns into a grin. _Ninth inning, fourteen to fourteen, two outs, two strikes, and a minute and a half left on the clock_. If Zhu Li can just get one more strike, they'll have just enough time to send a batter or two up and break the tie. She eyes the batter warily. This one's known to be a problem. She doesn't have trouble with curves or fastballs, has a batting average that rivals her own, and has already been sponsored by several major sports brands. She's a triple threat, and they cannot afford to let her get a homerun.

Kuvira can see the tension mounting on Zhu Li’s face as she also realizes the enormous pressure of this last pitch. “Watch the time!” she shouts at the pitcher, spitting to the side again. Zhu Li nods once, kicks her feet around on the mound, and looks to Opal for her signal. Opal holds a two between her knees, drops her hand to the earth, and pulls the dirt toward herself. Zhu Li grins. _Forkball_ , Kuvira thinks. Zhu Li has never lost on one of those. She watches as the pitcher rears back again and releases. The ball whizzes through the air, and the third-base woman tenses as she waits for the resounding clap of the ball meeting the catcher’s mitt, but it doesn’t come. Instead, she hears a _ding_ as it clashes against the metal of a bat and spirals straight towards her. She dives to catch it, but it meets the ground before it meets her glove, and she clambers to her feet as it rolls into her mitt. Shouts and cheers are coming from every direction, and she curses silently because it shouldn't have taken so long to get the damn ball. Her head whips around, eyes homing in on the runner stepping off of second base and running straight towards third. Kuvira rushes forward but stumbles over the dirt before she catches herself. Third base is so close now, and if she can just get there before the other woman does, then they will still have a chance to win the game. Her feet pound against the gravel as she sprints towards third, but she doesn't make it. Instead, her body meets the solid ground, crushed by the weight of another person. The woman looks down at her through her helmet with a grin.

“Ah, you caught me,” she mumbles. Sweat is running down her face, and her breath is coming in shallow pants. The third base woman looks up at her, then looks around. Third base is two feet away, and the runner has obviously not made it. She reaches up with her glove and taps her.

“Yeah, and now you’re out.” She smirks. There’s a dejected grumbling across the stadium, but in the same breath, she hears the hoots and hollers of her fellow teammates. “Now, can you please get off me? You’re sort of crushing my lungs.”

“Oh, yeah! Sorry about that. I just…got distracted.” The other woman rises to her feet and offers a hand to help Kuvira up, but Kuvira shrugs it away and hops up on her own. She looks down when she realizes the other woman still has her hand out. “Korra,” she says simply. “I’m Korra.” Kuvira tentatively shakes her hand.

“I’m Kuvira.” She grumbles as she pushes the hair off of her forehead. “You could be a bit more careful next time, yeah?”

“Well, I didn’t really have a choice. You got in the way of third.” Korra scoffs.

“That is my job.” The older woman retorts. She turns swiftly and jogs to the dugout. Korra watches her leave, almost disappointed in not having longer to talk.

* * *

Kuvira rushes down the stairs of the dugout, straight to the batting chart. “Okay, who’s up?” She shouts. Her teammates turn to her, and Coach Beifong eyes her with uncertainty. Her fingers trace down the list. _Opal, P’Li, Zhu Li, Ming Hua, Eska, Baatar Junior, Desna, Ghazan_ …she pauses. “Me?” The others nod. Varrick approaches her from the side.

“Don’t worry! You got this!” He bellows. “But if you don’t, then we’ll lose. So, no pressure, but also all the pressure!” He claps her on the back, and she shrugs him off.

"You okay there, kid?" Beifong asks, but it's less of a question and more of a demand. She'd better be okay. That tumble on the field better not interfere with them winning the playoffs. So Kuvira nods, stretches her arms across her chest and reaches for her batting gloves.

“You got it, Coach.” She smirks. She spits on her hands before she slides them into the fingerless gloves, grabs her bat and taps it three times on the concrete floor of the dugout for good luck. Turning, Kuvira gives a mock salute to her team, plops her helmet onto her head, and playfully falls backward before twisting into a jog up to home plate.

The catcher is a tall, slender woman, from what she can tell. Her dark hair cascades down the back of the chest plate, and her eyeshadow shimmers pink when she blinks. _Typical_ , Kuvira thinks. She steps up to home plate and scrapes her feet in the dirt. She looks at the pitcher’s mound as she taps her bat again three times on the hard leather of the plate and readies her stance. Her elbow slides up and back, level with her chin, and her knuckles scrape just under her right ear. The bat swings tall behind her, and she looks at the pitcher over her other elbow. Shock lights her chest when she realizes they’ve switched out pitchers. Korra now stands tall at the mound rather than that tall, lanky guy with spiky hair. The younger woman wears a clear, protective mask over the front half of her face, and her ponytail sticks out behind it. Kuvira smirks, ready for the challenge.

* * *

Korra shuffles her feet in the dirt and slaps her glove against her thigh a few times before she faces home plate. A smirk graces her lips when she realizes who the batter is through the shadowy lines of the helmet's faceguard. _It’s only fair,_ she thinks, _that I be the one to get her out._ Her plan for revenge turns her smirk into a determined grimace as she steps forward. Asami looks at her from behind Kuvira, taps one finger two times into the dirt. _Curveball_ , she thinks. _Kuvira has trouble with the curve._

She rears her arm back, lifts her leg, and tilts before she throws her upper body forward. Her wrist spins ever so slightly as she releases the ball.

* * *

Kuvira is ready for the first pitch, but the way Korra moves is so fluid, and she decides to see what the pitcher is capable of before she swings. The first ball shoots out of the pitcher’s hand, curves outward slightly, and smacks against the leather catcher’s mitt. From behind them, there’s a loud grunt. _Strike one_ , Kuvira thinks. Korra catches the ball on its return, a small, triumphant smile on her lips. She turns her back to home plate and continues digging her cleats into the dirt. Kuvira watches her for any sign of what’s to come next. She had seen the catcher tap the dirt twice with one finger. It’s a stupid signal, to be frank. Most of the teams use that signal for a curveball. She scoffs. The umpire crouches behind her again, and Kuvira looks down to the catcher in hopes of seeing her signal. One finger, two taps. _Curveball_ , the batter smiles, _eye on the ball_.

She readies herself this time, breathes in, and watches as Korra tilts back before releasing the ball. As the ball leaves her hand, Kuvira releases her breath. Her arms drop, her backfoot pivots with the turn of her hips, and the bat slices through the air.

There’s a resounding _pop_ that sends vibrations up the grip of the bat, and Kuvira immediately takes off. She chucks the bat towards the dugout as she passes first base. Her feet slap heavily against the gravel as she passes second, then shortstop. There is screaming all around her as fans cheer and her teammates holler at her from the dugout. Her foot taps third, and she keeps going. Her eyes are locked on home plate.

Suddenly, home plate isn’t the only thing she sees when Korra passes in front of her. Kuvira only has a split second to make a decision. Does she rush back to third in hopes that she beats the baseman? Does she make a run for home plate? She glances down. Korra’s foot isn’t touching the plate, so she’s technically not out yet, and there’s just enough space between her bent legs for Kuvira to attempt to slide in before being touched. She steels her jaw and speeds up. It is something that Korra is wholly unprepared for her to do, and she hesitates for a split second. But a split second is all Kuvira needs. She drops to the ground with her left foot extended, her right leg bent protectively over her thigh. Her hands graze through the dirt as she slides across the ground. She feels the thud of her ankle on the plate at almost the same moment Korra’s glove shoves into her chest. Both women stare at each other, and the world stills. For just one moment, Kuvira holds her breath. The buzzer sounds.

The umpire shouts and waves his arms through the air in a straight line. “Safe!”

* * *

Opal and Zhu Li force Kuvira to come out for celebratory drinks that night, and despite her protests of being too hot and tired, the young woman can’t help but feel a twinge of excitement course through her veins. She showers quickly, lets the hot water wash over her sore muscles as it washes away the sweat and dirt from the game. It feels _so_ good, and for a moment, she is tempted to cancel on her friends and stay in the shower until morning. She doesn’t, though, and rinses herself off before grabbing the towel hanging over the glass shower door. The bathroom is hot and stuffy now, and the steam is almost suffocating. She dries quickly, dresses in her usual green slacks and black t-shirt, and pries the bathroom window open to let the heat out.

Kuvira is just barely finished braiding her hair back when she hears a familiar knock on the door. “Coming!” She shouts. The door swings open anyway, and Zhu Li and Opal tumble through the opening. “Or not.” The other two women laugh.

“Come on,” Zhu Li urges her with a firm tug on her arm. “We’re gonna miss happy hour!”

"Fine, fine! Just let me grab my shoes," Kuvira grumbles. She throws on an old, beaten-up pair of combat boots and tucks the bottom of her slacks into the tops. Opal is waiting at the door with her wallet and keys hung out like a taunt. "You are incorrigible, you know that?" Opal chuckles.

"Wouldn't wanna be late!” She teases.

The three women roam the streets for what feels like far too long before deciding on a small, covert speakeasy hidden in an alleyway off the main road. Rainbow flags adorn the windows, and Kuvira shrugs. It’s good enough. Opal and Zhu Li take off through the doorway and head straight to the pool table. Alone now, Kuvira stalks up to the bar and grabs a stool. The bartender eyes her curiously. “You here alone?” She asks.

“I’m single if that’s what you’re asking,” Kuvira smirks. The white-haired bartender rolls her eyes and points at her with a knowing smirk. “Can I get a Yingling on tap, please?” She sees the other woman nod in response before she shuffles away to find a glass.

“So, you’re single, then?” A voice offers up from behind her. Kuvira turns, only to be met with striking blue eyes and dark skin. Korra drags a stool up from another section of the bar and slides in next to her. “I was wondering, you know, during the game. Nice job there at the end, by the way. Not many people can hit my curveballs.”

Kuvira swallows thickly. “Um, yeah, thanks. You played well, too.” _Stupid! I’m stupid._ She groans internally. "I mean, you played fantastically." Korra chuckles, motions for the bartender to bring her another drink, and leans into Kuvira's side. Their thighs graze each other, the skin of their arms softly touching. Kuvira’s breath hitches when she realizes she can smell the perfume on the other woman.

“Oh, I did, did I?” She asks with a smirk and a quirked brow. “So, you come here often?” Kuvira snorts.

“Is that your best line, Korra?” She mocks the girl playfully but flusters when she sees the hint of red rise to her cheeks. “Uh, no,” she finally answers. “We just stumbled on it by accident, and Opal and Zhu Li insisted on coming in. They saw the pool sign on the front and wanted to play.”

“You not a fan of pool?” Korra asks, and there’s an earnestness to her voice that causes Kuvira’s heart to flutter.

“Never learned.”

“You never learned how to play pool?” The younger woman is shocked now, and she reaches over and grabs her drink and Kuvira’s beer off the counter before she turns and walks away. Kuvira is dumbfounded for a moment, but Korra turns, smiles over her shoulder, and winks. “Never too late to learn, yeah?”


End file.
